Chapter 4: Exorcism-4

“So, you married into a wealthy family for money, selling your body and soul, feeling sorry for the pure child who saw through it all—feeling ashamed and humiliated—that’s why you allowed his arrogance and rudeness.”

Andrei snorted: “How is that possible? And why are you here?”

The alpaca guessed: “That means you have a weapon in his hands.”

Andrei extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray: “Why are you here?”

The alpaca rolled its big eyes—this person was only cautious before Eisen, but showed no respect to it.

***

Last night’s meeting at the church didn’t lead to any conclusion. Andrei was completely confused, only remembering he didn’t eat, met the exorcist, was saved, and had red mud from Eisen’s theft in his body.

In any case, he offered to help, but aside from being told by Eisen to “come find you anytime,” nothing else is clear.

The church people and police handled the scene. The dead person “came” from a cemetery two blocks away—the gravedigger is now in the hospital due to shock. Andrei thought the church people would tell him not to talk about it, but they just asked for his name and let him leave.

The next day, when Andrei opened his eyes, he saw the alpaca flying above his head.

***

The alpaca sat on the bar table, trying to cross its legs: “I’ll protect you. Since you have red mud, they might target you—Erebus asked me to watch over you.”

“Oh, I see.” Andrei removed the lemon slice from his cup. “Aren’t you very weak?”

The alpaca protested, “I’m not weak. And if something happens, I’ll be responsible for calling him over. Give me that lemon slice—you don’t need it either.”

Andrei handed it to him, and the alpaca used it to clean its hooves.

“What does ‘Erebus’ mean?”

The alpaca gave Andrei a subtle look. “When his power awakens, aren’t you right there with him?”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s easy to figure out.” The alpaca tried to insert its hooves into Andrei’s cup. “‘Erebus’ is a kind of power, a title. Only among humans do there be successors who inherit it—the one who inherits it becomes the current ‘Erebus’.”

Andrei moved his cup away from the alpaca’s hooves. “Is it very powerful?”

The alpaca looked up at him in disbelief. “Why do you ask such a stupid question so quickly?”

Before Andrei could frown, the alpaca continued, “He’s our enemy, our natural predator. His bones can pierce us, his blood can kill us. We can’t disobey his commands, even his spittle can burn us. In short, he’s a hunter—the ender of all ‘non-human beings’.”

“Is it very strong?”

“Trivial. But…” The alpaca paused.

“What?”

“This generation is him.” The alpaca frowned. “Arrogant, overbearing, inflexible, stubborn, petty, angry, and extremely skilled in using his power—it’s like a person fighting us in a war.”

Andrei smiled slightly: “Have you fought him already?”

The alpaca looked at him meaningfully: “You simply can’t imagine his abilities.”

“It seems you think he’s amazing.”

The alpaca said nothing, looking very serious.

Andrei remained silent for a moment: “So he’s your king?”

“What nonsense—how is that possible?” The alpaca became excited. “Since the existence of Erebus, we and its heir have been constantly at war, from ancient times to now. Generations of Erebus, generations of us—endless conflict. We can’t stop unless we destroy that power, or he eliminates everything else.”

As it spoke, its expression became more fierce, until it noticed Andrei’s indifferent expression and stopped.

Andrei laughed indifferently, showing little interest. He took a sip of lemon water: “Oh, a species conflict.”

His words sounded indifferent; the alpaca wanted to hit him for a moment, open his human head and spit on his ear, explaining the long history of war with Erebus and the events that have occurred. But when the words left his mouth, it seemed meaningless, so he kept quiet.

Then Snake-Eye walked over, handed Andrei a drink from the bar, and smiled at him: “Pink one—how is it?”

Andrei paused his hand, then pushed it back: “I’d rather not drink.”

“When are you actually going to break that habit?” Snake-Eye touched his beard and replaced the drink with lemon water. “But how about working under Fabio? I heard you lost to them again three years ago.”

Andrei took a sip of lemon water: “It’s a bit bitter. Add some sugar.”

Snake Eye acknowledged his attempt to change the subject but didn’t take it seriously, smiling calmly: “That means you’ll work under them for six years.”

Andrei raised his glass: “Six is a good number. For six.” Then he drank the entire lemon water.

Snake Eye, in his early forties, had a Mediterranean face, wavy hair, a narrow long face, an eagle nose, perfectly shaped lips, bright eyes, and a look like an eagle—extremely aggressive, but his owner had a stylish mustache trimmed too neatly, with carefully shaped eyebrows curving just above the eyes, and hair neatly tied at the back with a special pomade, all very deliberate. His face showed intelligence, and he always looked ready to say a few romantic words, hiding a hint of “I know what you’re thinking” behind his smiling face. He was tall, always wearing brown short jackets—red or purple—fitting his bartender role and his flamboyant color preference.

Snake Eye ran a tavern called “Sieben” on 11th Street in Vlăști, a place where bandits gathered. Three years ago, when Andrei came to Vlăști for a drink, Snake Eye found it useful. Having local connections, he helped Andrei find a place to stay and occasionally arranged jobs for him.

“An… even though I say this, it doesn’t really persuade you,” Snake Eye said, leaning his arm against the bar near Andrei, “You’re not really suited to get involved with Italians. It’s better if you act alone.”

Andrei looked up at him: “Indeed, you shouldn’t say that. After all, it was you who asked me to kidnap Fabio’s daughter last month.”

The Snake-Eye smiled: “To clarify, I’m just a middleman; the employer is someone else.”

“Who?”

The Snake-Eye pressed his arm: “I can’t say that—rules are rules. Are you still worried that the employer leaked information and got you caught by the Italians?”

Andrei raised his hand to stop him from continuing: “Unless you plan to tell me the employer’s name, there’s nothing to talk about.”

The Snake-Eye smacked his lips, looking disappointed: “Well, it seems I’ll have to work harder to make you trust me.”

Andrei didn’t respond, as the alpaca kept making noise nearby.

“Hey, what’s your real name? Why does Erebus call you Anli…”

Andrei watched the Snake-Eye walk away, then raised the cup to speak without wanting anyone to listen to his monologue.

“Only he calls me that. He couldn’t pronounce my name well when he was little.”

The alpaca walked back and forth on the bar: “He can’t even read it—such a fool. In our place, anyone can read, so why do humans control…” It stopped mid-sentence and looked at Andrei.

Andrei picked up the lemon water bottle and slowly poured it for himself: “What if I told him what you just said? What would happen?”

“……” The alpaca returned seriously, bending down: “Respected sensei, first, allow me to express my sincere apologies. I…”

Before the alpaca finished speaking, a short, sturdy man stepped forward and patted Eisen on the shoulder: “An, let’s go.”

Eisen finished drinking the water in his hand, tapped the table, nodded at the snake-eyed person watching him, and signaled that he was leaving. The alpaca was putting his hoof into someone else’s wine glass to wash its feet, laughing as it did: “Ahahaaha, stupid…” Seeing Eisen exit, he reluctantly took out his hoof and flew after him.

Eisen didn’t talk to the man. The alpaca tried to speak to him too, but Eisen stopped it with a gesture—it seemed Eisen wanted to focus.

They left Sieben, walked east along a street, entered a narrow alley, crossed it to the ninth street, and headed toward a convenience store across the road.

Only then did the man leading the way relax slightly. He handed Eisen a cigarette: “I heard you lost another six years?”

Eisen accepted the cigarette and replied with a grin: “Why is there more and more of it…”

The man laughed and patted his shoulder: “Gambler, if you don’t have money, leave the table. I’ve never seen someone bet on themselves.”

Eisen took a puff, letting the smoke burn: “Now you’ve seen it.”

The convenience store is thriving; the owner stands at the door, shouting in various languages to welcome customers, his voice loud as if running a small business like a mission, full of conviction. There are many people at the entrance—young couples walking by, sharing cheap snacks bought from the store while standing in the wind; some stand there using the phone in the shop, smoking and cursing into it; those working overtime hold the keyboard with one hand while holding a sandwich with the other, spilling sauce onto the keyboard and needing to clean it up; there are also people who come here to buy coffee and pose under the shop lights for photos; a few men in jerseys shout and buy beer in groups. Eisen and the others walking here are completely unnoticed.

They pass by the door; the owner grins and says “Welcome.” As Eisen walks past him, the owner extends his hand. Eisen shakes it briefly while walking, then looks at the card given by the owner. Today’s code is: Brazilian.

A man hands Eisen a cigarette, which Eisen takes and lights while walking. They walk straight toward the back, across the shelves, toward the warehouse. Eisen presses the code to open the door, letting the man enter first, then stops to check the surroundings before following in. The door is closed behind them.

Inside, there’s a one-meter-five-wide passage, seven to eight meters long, very quiet—no sound except for footsteps. As you approach the end, you see a thick black iron door, with a small window one meter seven above the ground. Eisen taps the door three times, pauses for five seconds, then taps again three times. The small window opens suddenly, revealing a bronze-colored face on the other side. The face looks back at both of them briefly, then its gaze lands on Eisen.

Eisen smiles and says, “Good evening, Scorpion.”

Scorpion steps back and pulls open the heavy door. Only when it opens does he reveal his two-meter height and massive physique. He nods at Eisen, and both quickly walk inside.

The noise behind the door seems like another world.

The noise comes from a boxing ring.

The ring is designed like an ancient Roman amphitheater: a low platform in the middle is the boxing area, with stands surrounding it so people can overlook the ring. At the center stand two panting boxers—one clearly breathing heavily, as if the air around him is thin. Compared to him, his bloodied and bruised face seems insignificant. On the stands around the ring stand shouting gamblers, calling out the fighters’ names while spouting colorful insults and spitting, frowning, waving hands, almost wishing they were punching themselves. But if they really were punching, they probably wouldn’t shout insults with such intensity.

A person sitting near the ring sees Eisen enter and gestures toward him. Eisen pushes through the crowd and walks toward him.

This person’s name is Gule, the boxing manager, who looks like a rich man with too much gold and jewelry—very cumbersome. Eisen finally approached him. Gule stood up and pointed with his thumb toward Eisen: “New thing, take a look—great stuff.”

Eisen smoked his cigarette, gave a perfunctory clap, and reached out: “The key.” As he spoke, the cigarette shook, and ash fell down.

Gule looked at him dissatisfied and muttered, “A rough man, doesn’t even care about the jewels.” Then he took out the key and handed it to Eisen.

Eisen accepted the key, squeezed through the crowded crowd again, and entered a unremarkable room.

The alpaca followed behind him: “Do you still want to box? I used to work with a famous boxer—what was his name… he helped me get many gold belts… what was his name…” The alpaca thought deeply.

Eisen opened a storage box, took off his clothes, and asked, “Working together means being possessed?”

“Don’t say it in such a harsh way—he agreed.”

Eisen glanced at him: “A deal with a devil… what happened to him in the end?”

The alpaca turned its head and flew around the room without answering: “The environment is good. What’s this woman’s name? Is she a star?” It approached a wall full of nude/ female posters, stared at one of them, and licked it after looking at it.

“Congratulations—you’ve become the 320th creature that licks it.”

The alpaca shuddered: “Dirty! Unclean!…” Then it saw from Eisen’s expression that it had been deceived.

Eisen threw off his white t-shirt into the storage cabinet, standing bare-chested with his back arched as he searched inside, revealing the spine and tensed muscles.

Tepilros’s gaze shifted. Damn Erebus had stuffed it into a cartoon alpaca to humiliate it—it looked like a comedy cartoon. But really, it’s a polite demon who wants people too, not some powerless invisible pet with no strength, wanting human bodies, human bodies, human bodies, human…

With a click, Eisen closed the cabinet. Tepilros suddenly came back to life and flew toward Eisen.

Eisen was wearing a工字式 tank top. The back muscles bulged and relaxed, like mountains shifting to plains. Then he pulled down the rolled-up shirt, revealing the bones of his fingers and slowly stretching the tight fabric to expose a thin strip of elastic. He tugged downward, covering his superior chest muscles, followed by neat abdominal muscles. There were faint scars on his body, but what stood out most was the abdomen, deeper down, with erotic marks.

Then, his hands stopped moving.

Tepilros raised his head and met Eisen’s eyes.

Eisen smiled with a curled mouth, unclear whether it was contempt or pure amusement, but the smile carried more malice than kindness: “The alpaca’s gay too? Cool. Should ‘Discovery Channel’ interview it?”

Erebus spat inward, these two were equally despicable. If Erebus’s mockery was full of youthful arrogance and disrespect, Andrei was a mature man with slow, sarcastic humor. Though they didn’t share a deep bond, there was a similar undertone between them—both were essentially the same kind of person.

Tepilos grinned, planning to put him to sleep once Erebus died, and then take over his body. The body would belong to him.